The Pashtun Candidate
by Jasmine2009
Summary: Tony is identified by a terrorist group to carry out its nefarious plans against the US, and specifically Gibbs,
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Pashtun Candidate  
Author: Jasmine  
Date: 3/26/2012  
Universe: NCIS Season 5  
Warning: None  
Rated: PG  
Summary: Tony is identified by a terrorist group to carry out its nefarious plans against the US, and specifically Gibbs.  
Disclaimer: I don't make any money off this. All credit goes to CBS, D. Bellisario, NCIS, Mark Harmon, and anyone else who should be credited. This story is very loosely based on the book, _The Manchurian Candidate_, by Richard Condon.

Chapter 1

_Somewhere in the hills of Afghanistan…_

The tall figure moved gracefully in the shadows of the cave. His hands were tightly clasped behind his back, evidence that he was deep in thought, or perhaps irritated. It was difficult to tell sometimes. "I want a US agent that I can turn."

Whenever the al-Qaeda leader lowered his voice, his underlings steered clear of him, but in the deep recesses of the Afghan mountains, there was nowhere to go. One of the younger, and still as yet ignorant, Turban clad men replied, "Forgive me, Al-Awlaki, but since our attack on the United States, it's been particularly difficult to recruit Americans."

The older man lowered his head and glared at the man's youthful petulance, more evidence that he was controlling his often violent temper. "I don't want excuses. I want action. Find me a man who will betray his country—Get me a name." Al-Awlaki, the al-Qaeda leader, whose full name was Abu Yahya al-Awlaki, turned away and left the small area, stooping low to clear the jagged opening. The remaining men sat motionless on the ground of the rock strewn cavity. There was an uneasy silence as each tossed a furtive look at his neighbor, wondering which one of them was going to die for their perceived insolent behavior. By the time Al-Awlaki returned, someone had better supply him with a name or one of them wasn't ever going to see the light of day again. Of that they were certain.

The elderly leader was revered and feared, and he never left a meeting without reminding each of the recruits that their role was to die for the cause. And it was times just like this that he demonstrated the group's fundamental philosophy towards martyrdom. But even though they chanted and hollered their allegiance to Allah and the cause, there wasn't a man among them who really wanted to die.

Which is why the next voice was like hope unleashed. One diminutive member of the terrorist group meekly offered, "I might know someone."

Ears perked up. Eyes brows raised and heads turned. All they needed was a name. An American name. It would condemn the man to death, but this was war and better some American die than someone currently seated on the rugged dirt floor of the cave. And in the remote chance that the man could be turned, he just might prove to be an invaluable asset in their war against the imperial and arrogant West.

"Are you sure?" one of the elders said, knowing the ramifications of false leads and misinformation.

The small man nodded, "I am sure."

His words were at odds with his appearance, then again, his appearance was at odds with his participation in the group. But they had a man and right now that was as good as an oasis in the middle of the Sahara. Eagerly, they summoned their leader back.

Abu Yahya al-Awlaki entered the cave. His larger than life frame blocked the only opening and he no longer whispered. His deep baritone voice boomed inside the small area, "You have a name?"

"Yes," Assef, the small man with the thin beard and pointy nose, nodded. He was well aware of what al-Awlaki was capable of doing and had seen his wrath on only one other occasion, but it had left an indelible print on his brain. "I know of a man who is strong willed, trusting of few, and highly intelligent. If we could turn him, he would be a most useful ally."

"Who is this man you speak of?"

"He came to my attention during a murder investigation aboard a navy cruise ship. One of the men in my cell reported him to me. I think he's a good candidate for our newer methods of brainwashing. And if not—if our methods prove too much for him, then at least we will have eliminated a potentially dangerous opponent."

"A name?"

"His name is Anthony DiNozzo, and he works for NCIS."

Chapter 2

Tony rolled over in bed. 'Why do I bother sleeping anymore?' he thought to himself. He felt lousy and didn't understand why. He kept a busy schedule, worked out, and was even trying to eat a little healthier, but none of it was having a very positive effect on him. It was seven o'clock in the morning and he'd slept through his alarm. If he thought a shower would make him feel better, he'd eagerly jump out of bed and take one, but he knew from experience it wouldn't.

So far only Ziva had commented on his tired and listless eyes. Of course she would. She noticed every detail about him lately. He looked over at his ringing phone and knew who it was before he answered, "Yeah."

"Did you sleep through your alarm again?" she chastised.

"Yeah."

"Well, we got a murder to solve if you're not too tired to join us."

"I'll meet you there." He took down the location and hung up. He didn't look forward to explaining to Gibbs why he was late, but he'd worry about that after he pulled his lifeless body out of bed.

The only saving grace of the morning was that the crime scene was fairly close to where he lived. He parked next to the NCIS truck and pulled his aching body from the driver's seat.

"Nice of you join us," McGee said, enjoying the opportunity for a little light hearted teasing.

Ignoring the comment, he addressed Gibbs and said, "Sorry, Boss, won't happen again."

Gibbs gave him the once over, making him feel uncomfortable, and then, without saying another word, walked away. If Gibbs had noticed anything unusual, he didn't show it. But it was Gibbs, so it was most certain that he noticed something.

"Do I look that bad?"

Ziva answered, "Yes. What are you doing at night? Nevermind—don't answer that! I do not want to know."

"I'm not doing anything. If I were still dating Angela, I might give a different answer, but I'm not! And I'm not doing anything that's unusual. How bad do I look?"

McGee held up his camera and snapped. The flash temporarily blinded his colleague. "Here, you can judge for yourself."

Seeing the bags under his eyes, he pushed the camera away. "Funny, McPhoto. Fill me in, will ya?"

McGee enjoyed seeing Tony out of sorts. The man who was always in control, the man who always looked like he stepped off the cover of GQ, the man who was always quick to point out other people's flaws was in a funk, and that pleased him to no end. "Sure thing, Tony. Petty Officer Trevor MacGreggor was found dead this morning by a passerby. Single gunshot to the chest, no witnesses."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, Tony, that's why they call us out here when they find a dead body. So we can fill in the blanks and figure out what happened."

Tony narrowed his eyes at McGee's newfound sarcasm. "Have some sympathy for me, Probie. I'm not feeling myself lately."

"Like you had sympathy for me last month when I had the flu?"

"That was different. We needed you around to do computer things. I had to pick up the slack."

"DiNozzo!"

"Right here, Boss!"

"Canvas the area. Ziva, go with him."

"Sure thing, Boss!"

Tony gave his colleague a quick sneer and headed across the street to the nearest apartment complex. Ziva followed behind. Once they were out of earshot range, Tony said, "He must not trust me to go alone."

"Perhaps he thinks you will scare the residents with the way you look."

"Me? Since when have my looks scared anyone?"

"Since you started looking like you haven't slept in weeks."

Tony rubbed his eyes. He felt like he hadn't slept in weeks, but he was usually pretty good at covering up such weariness, but this… this was something more than just fatigue.

Ziva observed him, waiting for a response and when none came, she furrowed her brow, perplexed by his behavior.

Chapter 3

Tony rolled over in bed. "Shit," he said out loud and to nobody but the empty walls. He felt awful and he even considered calling in today, but he'd never hear the end of it if he did. Whatever bug he had, it wasn't going away and he thought it might be time to see a doctor. He looked at his alarm. Eight o'clock! Damnit. He pulled his body out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. His mind was fuzzy and he stood in front of the mirror a full minute trying to figure out what to do next. He had to consciously think about his morning routine because things weren't coming to his head quickly, or for that matter, in any order.

First shave. He found his razor and completed the task. Next shower. He took a cold one hoping it'd wake him up. It didn't. Dry off, brush teeth, get dressed. Damn, he thought. Since when did a morning routine require so much thought?

That was going to be the least of his worries when Gibbs got hold of him. He sat down hard in the driver's seat of his car and began to pull away when he realized he had forgotten his backpack and gun. "Oh my God," he said out loud, again, and to no one in particular. This would make him another ten minutes late, but in the context of Gibbs, ten minutes might as well be two hours.

He made it to the navy yard in record time and hurried off the elevator, pleased to discover that his boss wasn't at his desk, not so pleased to see that his co-workers were.

"Nice of you to come in today," Ziva said.

McGee continued, "It certainly is. We gave Gibbs an update an hour ago, so he's eager to hear your part."

"Not now, McPunctual and Miss Perfect."

Ziva smirked, "If not now, then when? Perhaps you would like us to do your job for you?"

McGee grinned at Ziva and added, "Like he had to do for me last month?"

Tony could usually brush off their comments, but for some reason, they were annoying him today. "I said, 'Not now.'"

Abby came into the bullpen and stood, waiting expectantly to be noticed.

"Can we help you?" Ziva asked.

"Do you see these hands?" she said, holding them out.

"Yes."

"Do you notice that they're empty?"

McGee answered slowly, "Yes."

"Do you know why they are empty?"

Tony felt the aggravation rise deep from within his belly. He couldn't take this, not this morning. He had no time for riddles or puzzles or simple questions. He wanted quiet, he wanted to be alone, he wanted to begin working, but his brain just felt muddled, and he wasn't in any mood to be playing games. He tried to ignore the conversation.

Ziva shook her head, "I have no idea."

Abby placed her hands deliberately on her hips and replied, "They are empty because I don't have any evidence to analyze. I don't have any foreign substances for my mass-spectrometer, nor do I have any particulates to ponder. Gibbs comes to me for answers and I have nothing to work with. Ergo, I have no answers for him."

Tony rubbed his temples. The head ache that never seemed to go away but never seemed to get worse just got worse.

Because he was still enjoying this newfound unkempt demeanor of his colleague, McGee sauntered over towards Tony's desk and with boyish delight answered Abby. "You should really bring all your complaints to the _senior_ agent, aka Tony. He'll—"

McGee was stunned when he found himself flattened up against the filing cabinet staring into the unfamiliar eyes of his friend.

"You care to spell out your problem?" Tony hissed.

"I'm—I'm s-sorry, Tony! I didn't mean anything—."

"—Put him down!" Gibbs toned.

Tony suddenly became acutely aware of his surroundings. It seemed like his world just up and froze; a freeze-frame of the exact moment in time when he had lost his senses. He backed away from McGee, barely able to look him in the eye long enough to offer an apology, a direct result of being overcome by a strong feeling of remorse. "I'm sorry, Tim. I..uh… I'm sorry." Confused, he looked around at his desk. "I need to finish the… the…case."

Only Gibbs seemed to have control of his lower jaw because Ziva, McGee and Abby were wide-eyed with disbelief at what just happened. So were the other NCIS employees who had stopped mid-stride and mid-sentence to stare at the extremely uncharacteristic behavior.

"Tony?"

But Tony didn't hear his name, or if he had, he didn't react to it. He focused instead on his desk and the computer screen. On top of just plain feeling like crap, he was now embarrassed and confused, two emotions he rarely felt. "Maybe I should go home… I'm not feeling too good." But even that thought caused him pause, as if he were trying to figure out how to go about doing it.

McGee straightened his tie and looked at his boss, wanting to say something but not sure if what he'd say would send him off again. Gibbs ticked his head and Tim returned to his desk, keeping a wary eye out for any sudden moves.

"Tony?" Gibbs repeated.

"MacGreggor is from Ohio, Boss, stationed on the USS Marshall…" Tony said, trying hard to remember the details of their latest victim. Rubbing his forehead, he continued, "He—"

"—Tony?" Gibbs said with a little more force, finally getting the attention of his agent. "Come with me."

It took him a full minute to register the request and Ziva couldn't decide if he was blatantly disregarding Gibbs' order or trying to understand it. She almost told him to stand up and follow Gibbs, but he eventually did that on his own.

Abby watched him disappear around the corner, and then looked from Ziva to McGee and back again, "What was that?"

McGee shook his head, "I have no idea. If I thought I was going to piss him off like that, I'd never have teased him."

Ziva disagreed, "It is not your fault, McGee. Something is going on. He is not acting like himself."

"Are you okay?" Abby asked, touching Tim's arm.

McGee brushed it off, "Yeah, I'm fine. I wish I knew what was wrong with him, though."

"No kidding," she said.

Tim was impressed with himself for maintaining an air of control, but the reality was his insides were roiling. He concentrated on his computer, hoping he could hide his emotions from the scientist.

TBC

As always, if you can find the time to comment, I'm always appreciative. Shouldn't be too many errors in this as I've read it several times, but if you find something, please let me know. ~~Jasmine

**NOTE: is acting strangely. I'm having to resubmit this Chapter because the summary was cut off. Also, many of the reviews are coming in truncated. If anyone knows why or has seen this before, let me know. Thanks to those who have already reviewed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**FYI: FanFic is truncating reviews and uploads. Not sure why and unless I take down and resubmit everything, I can't seem to fix it. ~Jasmine**

Chapter Break

Tony sat in the conference room resurrecting memories of being a young boy awaiting discipline. Gibbs hadn't said one word to him since he sat down, opting instead to slide a paper cup full of water in front of him.

"What's wrong?"

Tony was once again overcome with a sense of irritation. He shouldn't have felt that way, but he did, and he couldn't explain it. Maybe he had the flu, or a cold, or the damn plague was rearing its ugly head, he had no idea. If he did know, he would fix it. But he didn't, and he couldn't explain why he slammed McGee up against the filing cabinet or why he was so anxious right now. So instead of trying to stammer out some excuse, he took a sip of water, feeling his boss' eyes boring into him.

Gibbs accepted the silence, after all, this is what he did for a living. He read people, and the longer he had to observe his agent, the more he could learn. For instance, the flickering eyes told him that Tony was embarrassed, while the downcast stare told him that Tony didn't have a clue what was wrong with him. He stood up, waved his index finger and said, "C'mon."

******************************8

"Ah, Jethro, I was just about to call you," Ducky said as Gibbs and DiNozzo walked through the sliding door. "I have a preliminary report on what killed Petty Officer MacGreggor."

"A bullet?"

"Yes, Jethro, a bullet. It pierced his left ventricle. He was dead before he hit the ground." Anxious to share his findings, he waited for Gibbs to throw a question his way as he rather enjoyed communicating his discoveries in this manner, but it didn't appear as though any questions were forthcoming. Strangely, he felt something in the air that caused him to look up and observe his visitors.

Both were stiff, uncomfortable even. Both were flush, maybe angry. Ducky had heard about Anthony's newfound penchant for sleeping in, so he thought it best to simply continue with his report sans the usual questioning. "I found the angle to be significant. The bullet penetrated his body here," he pointed to the wound in MacGreggor's chest, "and exited here," he half rolled him over to point out the exit wound on his back, which was several inches higher. "That's almost a 45 degree angle, meaning—"

"The bullet was fired from the ground."

"Or some proximity thereof."

"His attacker was lying down?" Gibbs asked, putting the question out there for debate. But his senior field agent wasn't taking the bait. "Hey!"

Tony snapped out of it, processing the words but not their meaning. "Yeah..., the ground. Makes sense."

Ducky furrowed his brow at the transaction, catching Gibbs' penetrating glare in the process. "Perhaps there's another explanation. A bullet emanating from the ground and entering at this position would exit much higher in the back, closer to a 75 degree angle. I would hypothesize that the person who shot this man may have been sitting down."

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs answered, and then turned to better face his subordinate.

Tony stumbled, trying hard to clear his head and respond appropriately. "I'll go back to the crime scene and look for a bench… or something."

"Tony?"

"Boss?"

"Stay here. I'll get Ziva to run down that lead. I want Ducky to check you out."

Ducky raised a brow knowing how annoying these things were to the young agent, but was surprised when Tony didn't push back.

"Duck, run some tests on him. Find out why he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks."

The doctor was suitably intrigued by the request. When the doors closed behind Jethro, he turned to better face his patient and asked, "What seems to be the problem, Anthony?"

Tony felt like his legs were two cement posts as he made his way to a chair. "I don't know, Ducky. I'm just really run down. I sleep at night but when I wake up I feel like I haven't slept at all."

"Let's take a look at you. Take off your jacket and tie."

Tony obliged while Ducky searched for his medical supplies in a locked cabinet. "I keep all my instruments for the living locked away inside here," he relayed with a smile. "I don't get a chance to use them much anymore but they do come in handy every once in a while."

Tony barely paid him any attention. He dutifully did everything he was asked to do, from removing his shirt to taking deep breaths. The last test was a blood sample which he barely remembered.

"Why don't you lie down a spell."

"Okay."

But when Tony didn't move from his chair, the doctor studied the agent's glassy stare and felt compelled to guide him. "Come with me, Anthony. I keep one of those old fashioned autopsy tables over there. Do you remember several years back when they were upgrading my lab? Well, I sort of hid that table so they wouldn't take it away. It's really quite comfortable on an old and achy back like mine."

Tony followed him across the room and laid face down on the table. It was cold against his clothes but it felt surprisingly good. He'd stay only a few minutes, just until he got a second wind. Gibbs was already pissed, and he wanted to catch up to McGee and apologize. Yeah, he'd rest just for fifteen minutes or so and then he'd get back to work.

Chapter Break

Palmer walked quickly into Autopsy and saw his boss sitting at his desk. "Dr. Mallard? Did you hear what happened?"

Never taking his eyes off his paperwork, he shook his head, "No, Mr. Palmer, I did not hear what happened."

"I went to see Abby—I know I should have come directly here since I've been out all morning, but I wanted to ask her a question about our last case. Remember we never conclusively determined if the marine sergeant was radioactive or not?"

Ducky glared, waiting for his assistant to get back to the point.

"Sorry. Anyway, I just came from Abby's lab and she told me that Tony got angry and shoved Agent McGee up against his filing cabinet this morning."

Ducky looked across the room. Palmer followed his gaze to a table with a figure lying on it. "Did we get another body, Doctor?"

"Not exactly."

Palmer walked closer and realized it was Tony sleeping. He backed away quietly and whispered, "What happened?"

Ducky shrugged, "I don't know. But he's been asleep for almost four hours and hasn't moved at all."

"Is he okay?"

"I've checked on him several times and he appears to be okay if not exhausted."

Palmer smiled, always admiring the ways of this particular agent.

"I wouldn't let my imagination get away from me, Mr. Palmer. According to him, he hasn't been out with a girl in over a week. But you can do something for me. You can return to Abby's lab and bring me the blood analysis that I sent down."

"Sure thing, Doctor. I'll be right back."

For the fourth time, the medical examiner checked on his patient. And for the fourth time, he felt for a pulse, strong; checked on his breathing, regular; and took his body temperature, normal. For all medical appearances, Tony was healthy, yet he wasn't. Extreme fatigue for a man in Tony's good health is not normal, and extreme mood swings from a man of Tony's affable nature is not normal either.

He stared down on the prone man, aware that Jethro would be expecting answers and also aware that he had none. Maybe the blood test would shed some light on the situation.

TBC

**Any comments are appreciated and keep my writing muse active. Thanks to those who've reviewed! ~Jasmine**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Break

Three hours later, Ziva and McGee walked off the elevator together expecting to find Tony behind his desk.

"Where do you think he is this time?" she asked, while stowing her gear.

"I don't know," McGee shrugged, "maybe he went home."

"His car is still in the parking lot; I saw it when we came back."

"Maybe Gibbs knows."

The two stared expectantly at him, but if he knew anything, he kept it to himself, preferring to stick to business. "Whad'ya find out?"

"There is no bench or chair or anything to sit on where Petty Officer MacGreggor was murdered. There is not even a curb."

Gibbs asked, "Did you get any video?"

McGee held up a thumb drive and said, "We got pictures instead. To save money the camera was set on photos instead of video. It takes a snapshot of the area every ten seconds."

"Pull it up."

Ziva wanted to know where her partner was and finally the curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "Where is Tony?"

Gibbs ignored her question.

"I saw his car in the parking lot," she pressed. "He must still be here."

Gibbs continued to stare at the plasma as grainy black squares popped up.

Ziva was just about to insist when McGee cut her off, "—Boss, these are the photos that were taken before and after the Petty Officer's death. Unfortunately, the only street light in the area was out, which would explain why we see nothing but blackness."

Ziva watched her boss leave the bullpen with purpose, then groused to McGee, "Why won't he tell us where he is? He is my partner and I want to know."

Giving the universal sign for not knowing, McGee shrugged his shoulders, raised his brows, and pressed his lips together. Knowing that wouldn't satisfy the Israeli, he turned his attention to his quickly disappearing boss, and remembered something he'd rather forget. Specifically he remembered his friend's dilated pupils. He didn't want to admit it out loud, much less to himself, but he was perfectly content to wait until Tony was over whatever he had. He had no desire to encounter him again, at least not until Tony was back in control of his actions, however long that may take. For the first time, McGee saw a side of his friend that he wished he'd never seen and would be quite happy to never see again.

Gibbs walked in to Autopsy to find Ducky hunkered over some papers on his desk. Palmer was washing pipettes and Tony was exactly how he'd left him four hours ago, asleep on the table. "How is he?"

Ducky shrugged, "From all accounts, he's fine. Even his blood analysis is fine."

"So why this?" he asked, pointing to the prone man.

"Tony is much more complex than anyone acknowledges. In his years on the police force and here, he's seen his fair share of heartache and evil. He covers it well."

"You saying he's having some sort of breakdown?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is very real, and everyone experiences it differently, but if I had to make a medical diagnosis, and given the lack of physical ailments other than the obvious fatigue, I'd say he's having a breakdown of some kind, but it's still very early to tell if it's anything other than late nights with beautiful women."

Gibbs turned when he heard the moan. He walked over and peered down on the barely awake man, "How do you feel?"

Tony blinked, focusing on his boss. He wished he felt better, but he didn't. He pulled himself up to his elbows and shook his head, "Sorry, Boss, but it's going to take more than a twenty minute nap to shake whatever I've got."

Ducky furrowed his brow, "You don't feel any better?"

He slowly swung his legs over the side of the table and rubbed his hands down his face. Truthfully, he didn't. "I don't know what got into me with McGee. It's this headache; I can't seem to shake it."

"How long have you had it?"

"A couple weeks now. It's probably allergies." He slid off the table and stretched his back. "I can't say I agree with you Ducky. If I had to sleep all day on that table, I doubt I would be able to walk."

Gibbs studied his agent. He looked awful; he was disoriented, and he clearly had no idea how long he'd been out. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

"But I still have the background checks on MacGreggor to do, not to mention going back to the crime scene with Ziva."

"That can wait. You need to rest some more."

"But I—"

"—Let's go," Gibbs stated, not sure how he felt about this new development.

"But I don't want to go home," Tony dug in, wondering why everyone was trying to piss him off today. "I want to do my job."

"You slept through your job today, Tony!"

"I did what?"

Gibbs held up his phone so Tony could read the screen. The numbers 5:34pm displayed clearly on the LED display.

He thought back, desperately trying to remember where all the time went. Did he not remember what had happened? "No, I just laid down for a minute…"

Ducky had sympathy for the agent. It was rare to see him so truly and utterly confused, "No, my boy. You've been sleeping for over eight hours. You must have needed it else you wouldn't have done it."

"C'mon, get your stuff and I'll take you home."

Dumbfounded, he picked up his jacket and tie and followed his boss into the elevator.

"Boss, I'm sorry. I know I've let you down these past couple of days, but I'll go home and get a good night's rest. That's all I need."

Gibbs nodded, not believing a word of it. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning at six sharp."

Chapter Break

Assef handed the binoculars to the man in the driver's seat. "Take a look."

Amir Hassan looked through the glasses and nodded, "This is good?"

"This is very good. I heard from my contact inside NCIS that Agent DiNozzo assaulted a colleague. Phase 1 is almost complete." Assef leaned back and watched their subject say good bye to his boss and then disappear inside the grey cement building. It had been exactly three months since al-Awlaki had given the orders to recruit Anthony DiNozzo and they were by all accounts on schedule.

The two middle-eastern men blended into the downtown Bethesda neighborhood nicely. Assef wore a blue khaki shirt with the letters AA Property Management embroidered on the breast pocket, blue jeans, and work boots. His thick beard had long since been shaved and his turban had been replaced by a gold and maroon baseball cap, the colors of the local team. His partner in crime wore the exact same outfit. Their utility van had the letters AA Property Management printed on a magnetic sign that could be peeled away to reveal a different company name if the need arose. Even terrorists had to watch their pennies in this economy.

"What next?" Amir asked.

"We continue his treatment until the time comes when he gives us the information we want."

"You mean on the Navy aircraft carrier that's heading for the Red Sea."

Assef nodded.

Amir smiled and replied, "You are very right, agha Assef. This is too easy."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Break

Tony took another cold shower. His insides always seem to feel on fire anymore. He took out a beer and popped the top and took a cool refreshing swig. He thought about eating something but nothing appealed to him. There was a movie coming on HBO that he had wanted to see, but even that had lost its appeal. He picked up the remote and found the station just in case a spark of interest remained.

How did he manage to sleep all day and still feel like he hadn't slept in weeks? Ducky gave him a clean bill of health, but he felt anything but healthy. His couch was comfortable enough, God knows he'd spent many a night on it, but perhaps tonight he should sleep in his bed.

Then again, the couch was fairly comfortable.

The pounding on the door startled him and he stumbled over to it. "Hold your horses!" Jeez, he thought. Who'd be visiting him now? He was so not in the mood for one of the multitudes of ladies who were prone to dropping by. He peeked through the tiny whole and saw his boss. "Whad'ya forget?" he said, swinging the door open wide.

Gibbs stared at his agent, not sure how to reply. "Are you feeling okay, DiNozzo?"

"About the same. But I'm sure after I get some sleep I'll be fine."

Gibbs looked closer, making Tony feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Are you okay, Boss?"

Gibbs shook his head, stunned. His agent was dressed in the same clothes and looked like he hadn't slept at all. "Do you know what time it is?"

Tony shrugged, thinking it was about eight o'clock, maybe nine. Before he could solidify his thoughts, Gibbs replied, "It's six A.M.."

Tony laughed until he saw his boss' expression. Sobering, he replied, "What?"

Ignoring his surprise, Gibbs brushed past his agent and looked around: two half empty bottles of beer sat on the coffee table and the TV was tuned to an adult station. "Where is she?"

Still trying to process the time, he replied, "Where's who?"

"The girl."

"Boss, I'm alone. You just dropped me off thirty minutes ago and I was getting ready to watch an old Steve McQueen movie."

Even more perturbed now, Gibbs threw a coat jacket and tie at Tony and said, "Let's go."

Tony hesitated, trying to wrap his head around the situation. But soon, he found himself obeying, but he felt something else inside his belly that he never thought he'd ever feel. Anger. Anger towards Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He quickly squelched the feeling, wondering where it had come from. Confused as to why he was in his suit from yesterday, he dismissed it in favor of bigger problems. He threw his jacket and tie over his shoulder and locked the door behind him. How was he going to make it through another day like this? First things first: how was he going to make it through a car ride with Gibbs.

Fortunately, Gibbs didn't say anything during the ride. When Tony realized that was the way it was going to be, he leaned his head back, enjoying the gentle rocking of the automobile. He jolted awake when Gibbs smacked him on the chest.

"We're here. Get out."

Tony blinked more than a few times, getting his bearings. Time was becoming a blur to him so he simply did as he was told. Gibbs took him straight to Ducky and it was obvious from Gibbs' expression that he felt vindicated when he saw the doctor's reaction to Tony's disheveled appearance.

"Tony, are those the same clothes you wore yesterday?"

"Yes, but, I… You see, I… it didn't…"

Ducky took note of Tony's inability to explain and Gibbs' frustration with him and thought it best to separate the two.

"Why don't you give us a minute, Jethro."

Happy to oblige, he dismissed his senior field agent with a wave of his hand, and stated, "Fix him, Duck!"

Ducky and Tony stared at each other, both at a loss as to what to say. Finally, the doctor forced a smile and said, "All right, my boy, why don't you tell me what you did last night?"

Gibbs halted the elevator between floors and took a deep breath. Tony was his steadiest, most reliable agent. If he couldn't depend on him anymore, then that was going to be a problem. He was finding it hard to believe Ducky's explanation of PTSD; it just didn't sound like DiNozzo. Maybe Tony _was_ having some sort of mental breakdown, but would that explain his actions? None of it made any sense to him. And why now? And why like this? Not sleeping and no memory of it? Something wasn't right; he felt it in his gut. There was something far more sinister at play here than just DiNozzo suffering some stress disorder. A lot of things might happen to Tony, but losing his mind wasn't one of them.

He should know; at one time, he was exactly like his senior agent is now, and although he'd come close, he hqe never actually lost it.

***********************************8

Ziva practically accosted the doctor when he walked into the squad room. "How is Tony?"

Gibbs looked up from his desk to hear to the answer.

"He is sleeping again."

McGee caught the tiniest hint of concern in his voice and managed to look concerned himself even though he was perfectly happy to let his colleague sleep off whatever was ailing him way down on the ground floor in Autopsy. He had to keep control over his own thoughts while in the company of his colleagues because he didn't want them knowing how he truly felt. But he had to admit that he was glad to hear that Tony was alright and not having another bout with some Middle Age disease again. "He can sure use the rest."

"When will he be coming back to work?"

"That, my dear, is a question for Tony. I can find no medical reason for his fatigue."

"Can he be having a relapse of the plague?"

"Possibly, but not likely. The plague would manifest itself with more physical symptoms, like a fever, blood, or coughing. Tony isn't experiencing anything like that. What he is experiencing is extreme fatigue, difficulty concentrating, and serious memory loss. There are hours out of his day for which he cannot account. His vitals indicate that he's very healthy and I've tested his blood for all the usual culprits, but to no avail."

"Then test for the unusual ones," Gibbs stated.

"Can I see him?" Ziva asked.

"He is fast asleep and I suspect he'll stay that way most of the day."

Hearing that he was going to be one agent down again, Gibbs said, "Ziva, I want you to pick up MacGreggor's girlfriend. Take, McGee."

"But we talked to her yesterday. She has an alibi and looked pretty distraught over his death."

"She knows something."

"Right," McGee said. He picked up his backpack and nudged her along. She was reluctant to leave, but they had a case to solve and if they were going to get back and help Tony, they had better get going.

She started to protest, but McGee's expression stopped her. She angrily picked up her bag and led the way.

Once the elevator doors closed, Gibbs asked, "How is he, Duck? I mean, how is he really?"

"I don't like to admit defeat, Jethro, but I think he needs to see a specialist. I can only do so much with the equipment I have. It's mostly limited to dissecting and carving. Not diagnosing or assessing."

"What do you suggest?"

Ducky shrugged. He had thought about a number of medical specialists that he could see, but only one kept recurring: a psychiatrist. Preferably one who specialized in post-traumatic stress disorder.

Chapter Break

Abby stared down at her sleeping colleague. He didn't look peaceful, yet he wasn't restless. Palmer approached the table and together they stared. She eventually said, "I need more blood to run the additional tests that Ducky asked for. Can you get it for me?"

Palmer smiled, "I was the only one in my class to get an A in Phlebotomy. Of course I can draw it, and I can guarantee he won't even stir." He scurried around the room finding the necessary instruments and laid everything neatly on a stainless steel table. "You see, the trick is to use the smallest needle available." He turned Tony's arm over and pushed up his sleep. "If I can—" he stopped short at what he saw.

"Is that a bruise?" Abby whispered.

Palmer examined it and then went to his other arm and pushed up that sleeve. He then took the liberty to examine a few other areas which were well hidden underneath clothes. He exchanged a look with Abby and then left to get Dr. Mallard. Few words were spoken during the exam by Ducky, for which Tony never stirred. With a deep sigh, Mallard walked across the room and called Gibbs, "I think you had better come down here."

Abby did not want to be around when Gibbs found out about the bruises. It wasn't that she thought he would get mad, it was that she didn't really know what his reaction would be, and that uncertainty unnerved her. "I'll be in my lab if you need me."

Palmer accompanied her for pretty much the same reason. He suspected, however, that where Gibbs only made Abby nervous, Gibbs made him downright scared. Carrying the three newly extracted vials of blood, he set them down on her table.

"What's going on, Jimmy?" she said before he had a chance to say anything. "First Tony is not himself, then he slams McGee up against the wall, and now there are bruises all over his body."

"I don't know, Abby. Do you need any help with these?"

"Thanks, just hand them to me one by one." She immediately began the process of dropping blood-lets into tiny vials. She labeled each one and nested them neatly into a canister. Carrying the container over to the Mass-Spectrometer, she dropped it into the hole and closed the lid. Punching a few numbers into the front panel, she listened for it the being to churn.

"I don't think Tony should be alone, do you?"

Palmer shrugged, "I wouldn't want to be the one keeping him company. Some of those bruises were large and deep."

"What could have caused them?"

Palmer lifted his shoulders. "The last time I saw bruises like that was my first year of med school. A woman had come into the emergency room after having a fight with her boyfriend. She was really messed up, but not nearly as bad as him. She must have taken a baseball bat to him."

"What I don't understand is why he can't remember it. If someone took a baseball bat to you, you'd remember it, right?"

Palmer nodded, "Yeah."

"So what's wrong with him? Who's doing this to him?"

Palmer listened to her talk. She was one of those people who could make you feel what she was feeling. And right now, she was feeling pain and sorrow for her friend.

"Are you going to be okay?"

She lifted her shoulder, "I don't know. I just want him to get better. I want him to go back to being goofy silly Tony. Is that too much to ask?"

Palmer shook his head. "No. No, isn't."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Break

Gibbs ran his hand over Tony's arm, feeling the raised whelps of the injuries and watching Ducky point out bruise after bruise all over the agent's body. "Anything broken?"

"Hard to tell, but I'll take x-rays just to be sure."

"How'd he get them?"

Ducky understood the underlying meaning and replied, "If you're asking if these are self-inflicted, I can tell you they are not. The angle of the bruising on his rib cage indicates that his arms were over his head. Here, look at his wrists. There is only slight bruising, almost invisible, but look at the bruises around his shoulder. These are much deeper. It's as if whoever did this didn't want anyone else to notice. We wouldn't have noticed either if it weren't for your request to draw more blood."

"How could Tony not remember this?"

Now Ducky was stumped. He couldn't think of any method that could inflict this much pain on a person without that person realizing it.

"How is it that he can sleep through this examination?"

"I can only answer that from a physiologically standpoint. Right now, Tony's in a very deep sleep. Much deeper than the sleep an average person might be in. His breathing is shallower, his heart rate is lower, and there is virtually no eye movement."

"Are you saying he's unconscious?"

"Very close to it. I monitor him hourly and nothing seems to change."

"What the hell is wrong with him? Should he go to a hospital? A psych ward?"

"I doubt they'd find anything and they'd run the same tests we are. And I doubt you'd get Tony to voluntarily go to a Psychiatric Hospital."

Gibbs needed the MacGreggor case wrapped up so he could concentrate full time on his senior field agent. He was angry, confused, and anxious, and he wanted answers. "Thanks, Ducky."

Dr. Mallard recognized the body language and wondered if he should call up and warn Ziva and McGee. He decided against it and instead pulled some ice packs from the freezer, wrapped them in a dry cloth, and laid them on some of Tony's deeper bruises.

Gibbs got off the elevator and rounded Ziva's desk with a purpose. "Where's the girlfriend?"

"She's waiting in Interrogation."

He kept walking through the bullpen, down the hall and around the corner, pausing only briefly to take the file McGee passed off to him.

Ziva and McGee slipped into the observation room and watched from behind the glass, but if MacGreggor's girlfriend knew anything, she wasn't letting on. Ziva weighed her next question and decided to ask her colleague, "I want to see Tony. Do you want to go to Autopsy with me?"

McGee hedged, "Based on what Abby told us, he's out cold. There's nothing to see."

"I know, but I would just like to see with my own eyes that he is okay."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You do not want to go see him?"

"It's not that I don't want to see him…I'd just rather wait until he's over whatever it is he has."

"You are scared of him," she half asked, half stated.

He turned to more squarely face her, "You didn't see him like I did, Ziva. He had murder in his eyes, hate! It was only there a second, but it was there. I know what I saw and I just as soon steer clear of him until he's…fixed."

Just then, MacGreggor's girlfriend gave them the lead they needed.

Chapter Break

"Let's go get him," Gibbs said to his team. He used the travel time to the ex-boyfriend's apartment to think, and it was obvious to McGee and Ziva what he was doing. It was strange leaving NCIS to pick up their prime suspect without Tony. His non-stop commentary usually solidified the investigation, asking and then answering his own questions. McGee may be a genius on a computer, Ziva may be adept at espionage, and Abby may be great at forensics, but Tony was the master at wrapping up an investigation. There were never any loose ends when his brain finished processing all the pieces of information surrounding a case.

The marine answered the door from his wheelchair. He didn't look particularly surprised to see the agents and didn't say anything other than he wanted a lawyer. It was easy to guess the motive behind Petty Officer MacGreggor's death: jealously, self-pity, and paralysis. Standard ingredients for murder.

Gibbs called in a special transport to take their suspect to NCIS for questioning and made Ziva and McGee wait behind. "But Gibbs," Ziva protested. "Do you think both of us need to wait?"

"Yeah." He slammed his driver's side door closed and drove away.

"Look on the bright side, Ziva. By the time we get him back to NCIS, wait for him to lawyer-up, and then interrogate him, it'll be quittin' time, and you can see Tony."

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

Chapter Break

Gibbs walked into Abby's lab wanting answers. "Whad'ya got for me, Abbs?"

She shook her head, "Not much. There's nothing unusual about Tony's blood. There's a small anomaly, but that's within the margin of error for Mr. Mass-spectrometer.

"What other tests can we run?"

"Nothing of a forensic nature."

"What about a CAT scan? Would that tell us anything?"

"It'd tell us a lot, but we don't exactly have access to one."

"Did you test his blood for everything?"

"Not _everything_, but I did use up all the blood we got from him this morning, and I've run all the tests I could think of."

"Then run some you haven't thought of!"

"Gibbs! That could take days, weeks even. There are thousands of blood tests that could be run—"

"—Then start running them!" he demanded while turning on his heels and exiting the lab.

"But Gibbs," she moaned, already realizing he was long out of ear shot range, "Tony doesn't have enough blood in him to run them all."

TBC

**I enjoy the guessing game that some readers are giving. Keep it coming as it helps me stay focused and get these chapters posted. So far, I've found one typo so if anyone finds any, please let me know. I try to catch them all but some just slip by. ~Jasmine**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Break

Gibbs walked into Autopsy and found Ducky taking Tony's blood pressure. "How is he?"

"The same. I heard you have a suspect in Petty Officer MacGreggor's murder?"

"Yeah, the ex-boyfriend did it. What do you mean by 'the same'?"

"Aey…," Tony said, groggily coming out of his slumber.

They studied him as he moved. Anything and everything he did now became potential clues.

Tony blinked, trying to focus on the two men staring down on him. "Hey," he repeated only slightly more articulately.

"How're you feeling?" Gibbs asked, turning his head sideways to get a straight-on view of his agent.

"Like I've been worn hard and put away wet."

The pressure building inside Gibbs released a little upon hearing a saying he hadn't heard in decades, and something Tony hadn't said since Kate was an agent. Ducky helped him sit up and took his temperature. "For being sick, you sure are healthy."

"I just needed some sleep. I'm actually feeling better."

Gibbs shook his head, "No you're not."

Tony never could fool his boss; he didn't know why he thought he could now. "If I could just get a good night's rest, I know I'd feel better."

"What do you do at night?" Gibbs asked.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe what he needed was a mattress instead of an autopsy table and a couch. "I do what everyone else does. I grab a beer, make something to eat, and watch tv."

"What did you do last night?"

"After you dropped me off, I went inside and did exactly what I usually do."

"Spell it out for us, and don't forget anything."

Tony took a deep breath and began, "I thought a shower would help so I planned to take one, only I don't remember if I did or not. I took a beer from the refrigerator and looked around for something to eat, but I wasn't hungry, so I skipped dinner and turned on the TV. I was going to watch an old movie, but honestly I didn't really feel like it. I no sooner sat on my couch, when you were knocking at my door. I thought you had forgotten to tell me something, only eight hours seemed to have disappeared somewhere."

"Where did you get those bruises?"

"What bruises?"

Ducky pushed up his sleeve and said, "These bruises."

Tony studied his arm and shook his head, "I have no idea." He looked at his other arm and tried to think what he could have done. After Ducky pointed out his ribs, he nervously laughed, "I have no idea how I got these. It sure explains why I feel so lousy though."

"They seem to have been inflicted in places that wouldn't have been seen or detected by anyone."

Tony rubbed his hand over his face. Fatigue was setting in again and he wanted to lie back down. "I promise tonight I'll get a good night's sleep. I just need to get into bed and not get sidetracked by anything."

"You'll sleep tonight because you're coming home with me."

"C'mon, Boss, I don't need to do that. I swear I'll go straight home and to bed."

"Not up for discussion, DiNozzo."

The door to autopsy opened and Ziva walked in. She was surprised to see her partner sitting up. "I thought you would be sleeping."

"I was, but now I'm not."

"You don't look so bad."

"Boss doesn't agree. He wants me to go home with him tonight."

Gibbs looked at Ziva, almost daring her to comment.

"I think that is a good idea. Maybe he can make sure you are not entertaining all night long."

Tony felt like mocking her and if the situation were different, he might have. He'd come to realize that they will never believe that he's been alone these past couple of weeks. Then a thought occurred to him. Maybe he was experiencing some sort of withdrawals because it actually had been a while since he'd slept with a woman. In fact, it's been several weeks since he'd had meaningless sex with a beautiful, no-strings-attached woman. Maybe the cure was to—.

The smack on the back of head brought him around to the present. "Heyyyy… what was that for?"

"What you were thinking."

"But I was only thinking about a possible cure for my problem."

Gibbs shook his head and replied, "Don't even think about it, DiNozzo. You're sleeping alone tonight."

Chapter Break

Amir slid into the booth across from Assef at a popular Afghan restaurant in Adams Morgan. Adams Morgan was a section of DC where just about any cuisine from around the world could be found. And the food was always exquisite. Restaurants that served mediocre food could never make the rent in this district, so the area was always flooded with only the smells and flavors of the best kitchens that the political city could offer up. And this restaurant was no exception. To Assef, it was a piece of home complete with the old Afghan woman slaving over a hot tandoor oven, preparing the Naan for the next day. Amir reported, "I just learned that DiNozzo is not going home to his apartment tonight. Special Agent Gibbs is taking him home with him."

Assef shrugged, "It does not matter. Perfection takes time and we will not be losing anything; besides, you and I could use a night off. Is everything in place for the weekend?"

"Yes."

Assef leaned back, enjoying the atmosphere in his little hometown restaurant. He sipped tea from a small round cup and waited for his meal to arrive. He was very pleased with the way things were progressing. Soon he would be able to report back to his superiors in Afghanistan of his success. Soon, his status in the cell would be elevated to unprecedented ranks, and soon he'd have his very own cell to lead. Then, no more hills and huts. For as much as he hated America, he hated dark caves and rock mattresses more.

"Yes, Amir," he mused, "everything is falling nicely into place. By this time next week, Leroy Jethro Gibbs will be dead."

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Break

Tony didn't know whose room he was occupying, but it had a bed and a nightstand and it was warm and dark. He lay on top of the covers trying to get comfortable, but instead of falling to sleep, he was left to think about certain thoughts he couldn't seem to shake. They were disturbing thoughts, murderous thoughts, and they were always just out of reach.

He would have these so-called dreams, where the rage inside him would grow, and he could see that it was a man who was the source of all his fury, but he could never make out his face. As he lay there, he began to realize that this man evoked such anger and hatred inside him that the feelings alone should have been enough to wake him, but they never did. The strange part was he could never fully identify the man. His features always seemed to be just blurred enough or shadowed enough so that he couldn't make out who he was, but there was something about him that made him realize that he knew the man. And there was one thing for sure that he was beginning to understand. The kind of anger he was feeling was getting harder and harder to control. These murderous sentiments were building up inside him, and if he wasn't careful, somebody was going to end up dead.

Gibbs looked at his watch and debated. At six o'clock, he decided it was time, and he knocked on Tony's door. He had checked on him twice during the night and each time he was restless, like he was having some sort of muted nightmare. He pushed the door open and seeing Tony sprawled across the bed, he quickly realized that he'd slept through his alarm.

"Hey, DiNozzo. Wake up."

Tony stirred, wondering how he went from thinking about a faceless person to the present. He moaned when he saw the clock.

"Get up, it's after six."

"Sure thing, Boss." Tony pulled himself out of bed and stumbled into the hall bathroom. The man in the mirror staring back at him was tired and groggy, but even feeling like this, he still felt better than he'd felt all week. "That does it," he said to his reflection, "no more couches for you."

"I feel good, Boss," he commented on the silent ride into NCIS. "Not great, but good. I think I just need to get a new mattress. I've had mine for a long time, and, well, let's just say it's probably time for a new one."

There was no doubt in his mind that Tony's mattress should have been replaced long ago given his penchant for an active night life, but he'd never known a bed to cause that much fatigue; otherwise, the entire military would be in trouble.

They exited the elevator and Tony followed his boss to the bullpen. He sensed their eyes on him and shot each of his colleagues a look before saying, "Good morning, Ziva, Probie."

She studied him a beat before answering, "You sound chirpy this morning."

"Chipper. I sound _chipper_ is what you mean to say."

Gibbs passed straight through the bullpen, not even stopping to check the papers on his desk. That was not exactly what McGee would have liked to have happened.

"And, yes, I'm feeling chipper today," Tony feigned, hoping if he said it, it would be true.

McGee also feigned a pleasant tone, "Yes, it's good to have you back."

"Listen, McGee," Tony said walking towards him, "I'm really sorry about the other day. I don't know what came over me, but I am sorry. How 'bout I buy you lunch to make up for it? I'll even bite the bullet and take you back to that sorry excuse for an Italian Pizzeria that you like so much."

McGee relaxed. This was the Tony he knew. "Okay. I accept your apology and I'll gladly go back to Mama Lucia's."

Tony turned to Ziva and said, "And I'll treat you too if you don't already have lunch plans."

"Why? You did not throw me up against a filing cabinet."

"Thanks for reminding me," he responded, slightly embarrassed. "But you did do my work on the MacGreggor case, so I owe you."

"In that case, I accept. But you should know that I left the paperwork for you on your desk."

Gibbs had headed straight for Autopsy to get a second opinion. "So, you don't think a bad mattress could cause such fatigue."

"I do not. A bad mattress will give you a sore back, and that may tire a person, but it won't cause the extreme fatigue that Tony is experiencing."

"But he seems better today."

"A good night's rest can do wonders, but that's not the reason you took him home with you last night, is it?"

"No. I needed to make sure he was sleeping at night—alone."

Ducky nodded, "Yes, that would be a good way to ensure that. But I sense there's something more."

"I checked on him twice during the night and he was different, not exactly restless, but tense. Do you really think he could be experiencing some level of PTSD?"

Ducky moved away from MacGreggor's body and to his book shelf. He pulled down a thick reference manual and opened it to an already bookmarked page and read from the paragraph, "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder can manifest itself it more subtle ways. It could be something as unnoticeable as a one second seizure or a brief nightmare. Victims of PTSD can go years without displaying any noticeable symptoms."

"How is it treated?"

"With time and therapy."

They both knew that Tony would never willingly go to therapy.

"Duck, just tell me he's going to be fine."

"I wish I could, Jethro. Tony's a complex man, with complex feelings. This could be something just in passing, like the small tremors that release pressure on the tectonic plates, or it could be symptomatic of something much larger."

Gibbs thought about that last statement all the way to Abby's lab. She greeted him excitedly, "I hear Tony's better! That's good news, right?"

"Yes, Abby, Tony seems to be better. Whad'ya find out?"

Abby pulled up some files on her computer and interpreted them, "I ran his blood through forty-three different tests. I didn't really expect to find anything but I ran them all the same. And I was right, there's nothing unusual about any of them."

"Keep running them."

"But Gibbs, I need more blood, and it was easy to get it when he was sleeping, but it's not so easy to get it when he's awake. He doesn't like needles."

Gibbs shifted from foot to foot, wondering why everything had to be difficult. "I'll talk to him."

Abby sensed that her boss was anything but satisfied with the answers he was getting. As he was leaving, she yelled to him, "Send him to Palmer; he's a master at drawing blood."

Gibbs walked into the bullpen and was pleasantly surprised to see all three of his agents working. McGee was clicking away on his computer, Ziva was on the phone, and Tony was filling out reports. He stood in front of Tony's desk waiting for his attention.

"Hey, Boss. What can I do for you?"

"You can let Jimmy Palmer take some more blood."

"Blood? Why? I'm feeling fine and—wait a minute. He already took some of my blood?"

Gibbs smiled and returned to his desk where Tony promptly followed.

"If he already took my blood, why does he need more?"

"He doesn't need more, Abby does."

"Abby? What for?"

Gibbs gave his senior field agent one of his famous stares.

Tony defended himself, "I know what Abby will do with it, but why are you testing _my_ blood?"

"Because you spent the last two days sleeping in Autopsy and I want to know why." For just a fleeting instance, Gibbs saw an anger flare behind Tony's eyes. It was enough for him to brace himself, but then it disappeared.

McGee took note of Gibbs' split second reaction and knew that Gibbs had seen what he'd seen.

Tony looked around, orienting himself. He felt at a loss, like a moment of time had escaped his life and he wasn't quite sure why it was gone or how to recover from it.

Ziva furrowed her brow at his confusion. One moment he was his usual self, arguing a point with Gibbs that he didn't have a prayer of winning, and the next, he was someone else, complete with different body language and movements. She set the phone in its cradle before she'd finished her conversation and stood up. "C'mon, Tony, I will take you to see Palmer."

It was only then that Tony saw his boss' face, and it was then that he finally identified the source of his rage.

Chapter Break

McGee waited until Ziva and Tony had stepped onto the elevator and the door had shut before he stood up and approached his boss, "Did you see that?"

Gibbs hated when the obvious was stated, "Yeah, McGee, I saw that."

"No, what I mean is did you see the look in Tony's eyes?"

That got Gibbs' attention.

"It was the same look he gave me the other day. It was different… HE was different. It's as if he was going to kill me."

Gibbs rubbed his chin at the comment. McGee was right. There was that split second where Tony looked as though he could do great bodily harm. And now the thought of Tony being down in Autopsy unnerved him. Standing, he said, "C'mon." They took the stairs to intercept them.

Ziva was finally happy at being with her partner. When he was around, she was content, which might explain her continuous chattering. If it was bothering Tony, he didn't let on.

"According to Abby, Jimmy is quite the expert at such things. You should not be afraid, Tony. He was top in his class."

She waited for a response from either man, but judging from Tony's skeptical look and Palmer's frozen expression, she wasn't going to get one. Thankfully, the door to the stairwell opened and Gibbs and McGee burst through, startling everyone in the doorway.

"Problem?" Gibbs asked.

Ziva turned around, confused by the question. "No, not that I am aware of at least."

"Good." He tilted his head, studying his senior agent.

From Tony's peripheral vision, he felt the eyes boring into him again and it made him uneasy.

With Dr. Mallard's silent permission, Palmer began gathering the instruments he needed and laid them on the stainless steel table. Ducky broke the silence and said, "Anthony, why don't you have a seat in my chair and take off your jacket and tie and roll up your sleeve."

Once he saw the instruments laid out on the table, he protested, "Is this really necessary? I'm feeling fine, much better than I have in days—"

"It's necessary, Tony. Go on, sit."

Tony took a deep breath and started to protest some more until Gibbs stated, "Palmer can take your blood the normal way, or I can shoot you and we can get it that way. Your choice."

Ziva and McGee smiled at the threat, although a small part of them thought Gibbs might actually do it. Even Ducky offered up a smile, hoping it would serve to relax his patient, but Tony didn't seem to be feeling the humor, which was uncharacteristic of him.

Tony took off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the bruises again. Irritated, he looked at Palmer and said, "Taking my blood would explain these bruises."

"No," Ducky answered, "they're not consistent with bloodletting. They appear to be more like defensive bruises."

Tony studied his arm until he decided he didn't want to look at it anymore. He couldn't explain how they got that way and he had absolutely zero memory of any altercation that might have caused the dark blue splotches. He looked at everything but his arm as vial after vial of blood was captured. He felt light headed and attributed that to the loss of blood from his body. When it was over, he rolled down his sleeve and buttoned the cuff and went to stand, but his balance was off slightly.

"You'd better wait a few minutes," Palmer said, thankful that Ziva was nearby to steady him.

Gibbs said, "Keep him as long as you need, Ducky, then send him up when you're done. Ziva, stay with him. C'mon, McGee, you're with me."

Ziva looked at her pale friend and asked, "Would you like to lie down?"

"No, I'd like to get back upstairs to work."

Ducky said, "Give it a few minutes, Anthony. Whatever you're going through is taking a toll on your body. You should lie down until you get your legs back."

Reluctantly, Tony made his way over to his usual bed and laid back. Ziva looked down on him and smiled, "You do not look so bad today. In fact, I would say that you are back to your handsome self."

Tony furrowed his brow, "Why are you being so nice to me? Do you know something I don't?"

"No. I just don't see any reason to kick someone when he is down."

Tony thought about that. Was he down? Why was he having feelings of anger and rage which only flitted across his brain for a second and then vanished? He didn't know the answers but it felt good to lie down again. He decided to close his eyes just for a minute.

Chapter Break

Tony put the finishing touches on the MacGreggor report at exactly 7:08pm, which was still several hours before Gibbs usually left the office. McGee had gone home already but not before Tony had apologized, "Sorry, Probie, for sleeping through our lunch date. We're on for tomorrow, okay?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday and I already have plans, but I'll take you up on your offer on Monday."

'Where did the week go?' Tony thought. "Okay, we're on for Monday."

"Just get some sleep over the weekend, Tony."

Ziva left with McGee and he sat alone in the bullpen. Gibbs was nowhere to be found but he didn't need him for anything other than to tell him he'd finished the report, a fact he would most certainly conclude from seeing it sitting on his desk. He pulled his gun from his desk and clipped it on; threw his badge in his pocket and picked up his backpack. It was Friday night and usually he's up for drinks and going out, but not tonight. Tonight he was up for some pure physical lust. Maybe what he needed was an evening with Maura. She is quirky, but just as her name describes, she is a dark haired beauty who just happens to be highly intelligent, and, oh yeah, excellent in bed. Yes, he thought, he'd swing by the bar and see if she was there. He left with more of a spring in his step than he thought possible and completely oblivious to the two men watching his every move from the mezzanine.

"How is he?" Vance asked.

"He'll be fine."

"That's not what I asked."

"There's nothing medically wrong with him."

Vance frowned, "I talked to Dr. Mallard. He suggested that Agent DiNozzo may be suffering from some form of PTSD."

Gibbs said nothing.

"I'm ordering a psych exam for him."

"Leon, you know what the results of that could mean."

"I do, and that's why I'm ordering it. I can't have my best team put in jeopardy by one man. You know as well as I do that if he can't pull his own weight, he's no good here."

Gibbs did know that. He knew that all too well, and in Tony's current condition, he also knew that he'd never pass the NCIS psych evaluation.

**************************************8

Tony lay panting in bed; beside him and breathing just as hard was Maura. She was the first to speak, "You know, Tony. When God made a man and a woman, he must have had us in mind because no one does this better."

She felt him smile and rolled over and asked, "What brings you out tonight?"

He took a deep breath contemplating her question. Fortunately, she began talking again before he did. "I haven't seen you in almost six months and then you show up out of the blue. I was supposed to meet Harry Stolz, but I guess he can wait for another time."

"THE Harry Stolz?"

She nodded.

Harry Stolz was the CEO of Merrings Corporation and the tenth richest man in the country. "I feel honored," Tony said, although he couldn't have cared less and she knew it. He then let her snuggle under his arm and gently caress his chest before he answered, "I actually wanted to go to the bar last night, but something came up. I guess I just need some pure unadulterated sex with a partner who knows what she's doing."

"Is it that dry out there in the land of meaningless sex?"

He wasn't sure of the reason himself but he admitted, "I haven't been feeling myself lately and I wanted to see how much of my life has been affected."

"I can assure you that you're better than ever at making love. But if you don't mind my saying, you did seem a little 'off' at the bar."

"Like how?"

"I don't know. Just different. Like there's something on your mind."

He kissed her forehead before asking if she wanted a drink. He returned with two opened bottles of beer and handed one over. "You want me to drive you home or call you a taxi?"

She clanked her bottle against his and said, "Tonight I feel like being driven home. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Busy day?" Maura was a managing partner at one of DC's preeminent brokerage firms and Tony had refused many a gift from her, including a fire engine red late model Maserati. Unfortunately for her, Saturdays in the life of Maura Carlotti was like any other day of the work week. There truly was no rest for the weary, but that's the game and she loved playing it. She also knew the rewards were generous.

"Yeah, early morning breakfast meetings followed by late morning meetings, following by early afternoon lunch meetings—"

He tickled her and she squealed in delight. Their playfulness ended in another lovemaking session, and he drove her home at three in the morning.

**************************************8

By the time he woke up on Sunday, half the day was gone, but worse than that, the fatigue had returned. He rolled over in bed and rubbed his face. For the first time, he was beginning to get worried. Maybe he had one of those viruses that there was no cure for and he was destined to live in a chronic state of fatigue the rest of his life. He tried to sit up but he struggled with it. He'd lost almost twenty pounds—twenty unexplained pounds, so getting out of bed should be easier, not harder, but he landed on his knees next to his bed, elbows on his mattress, hands holding his head. "Shit!" he exclaimed as his world spun around him. What in the hell was happening to him?

Chapter Break

Gibbs pushed through the director's door and asked, "What's the emergency?"

"There's been a breach of information originating from NCIS."

"What kind of breach?"

"A break-in, of sorts. Some classified data has been compromised."

"Why're you telling me? Tell it to cyber security."

Vance picked up his remote and clicked on the plasma screen. On the dimly lit screen, Gibbs watched a hooded man enter the squad room, sit down at Tony's desk and start working on his computer.

Vance fast forwarded to when the man left. "Your agent spent the better part of Firday night at his desk. The same exact time that the data breach took place."

"How do you know that's Tony?"

"He used his ID badge to get in."

"It still doesn't mean it's him. Have you had the film enhanced any? The man's wearing a hood—"

"With Ohio State stenciled on the front."

"Leon, c'mon! That could be any number of people. Even if it happens to be Tony, which I highly doubt, he's not the one leaking information."

Vance pressed the button on his phone and said, "Send him in."

Gibbs turned and watched a reluctant McGee enter the room, nervous.

"Tell him what you told me."

McGee stammered out his report, "The Director asked me to trace the source of the leak. It took most of yesterday because the hack is a very sophisticated one. Whoever did this managed to disguise an outside server as a router into the NCIS computers. Then they forced the server to replicate itself, while simultaneously creating mirrors of itself, which is a very difficult thing to do, but a sophisticated hacker, a very sophisticated hacker, could do it. At first glance it looks as though the mirrors sent data back and forth to itself, but in reality the data was being transmitted."

"McGee! English!"

"Have you ever been in a house of mirrors? Maybe when you were a kid?"

Gibbs continued impatience pushed his subordinate along. "Well, if you've ever walked through one of those houses, you know that it's designed to make you think there's a way out, but at every turn you end up running into another mirror. There's actually only one way out and even that path may be obstructed. What I discovered was that the data did find its way out of the server and subsequently out of the country."

"How far out of the country?"

"Afghanistan."

Gibbs stared at McGee who could barely hold his gaze. He knew he'd regret asking this question, but he asked it anyway, "How does Tony fit into all this?"

McGee hesitated for he did not want to say what Director Vance was expecting him to report. Finally, he answered, "Tony's computer is the source of the leak. The time stamp is Saturday morning at 2am."

"Are you sure?"

"I had Abby double check it. We're positive."

Chapter Break

Tony hurried into the elevator. For the first time in a week, he was going to be on time for work, thanks to some over the counter amphetamines and super caffeinated coffee. The down side was he was full of so much energy he wasn't sure if he would be able to actually sit at his desk and work.

"Good morning, Ziva," he said whisking past her cubby. He tossed his backpack on the floor, deposited his gun and badge in the drawer, and turned on his computer. It wasn't until he sat down and looked up that he noticed her expression. "I'm early today and I'm ready to work, so watch out." He looked around at McGee and said, "I haven't forgotten about lunch, Probie. Your choice of dives." His finished signing onto his computer and asked, "Where's our fearless leader?"

From around the corner, Gibbs appeared as if on cue, and stared down at his agent.

"Oh—hi Boss. I'm feeling better today."

Gibbs studied him, not believing a word of it. Shaky hands, dilated pupils, and a flushed face—not exactly the Tony he expected. "Why?"

"Why? Why what? Why am I feeling better? Well, good question. I think all I needed was some sleep and that's what I did over the weekend." It was at this moment that Tony started to feel something might be wrong. Everyone was staring at him. "What's up, Boss?"

Tony found himself sitting in the conference room with Gibbs and Director Vance. "What's going on?" he asked again, wondering why they were being so quiet. Vance clicked on the video and replayed the same images that he'd shown Gibbs an hour earlier. "What's this?" Tony asked.

"That's you breaking into NCIS' files," Vance answered.

"What? That's not me!"

"It looks like you."

"But it's not me. When was that taken?"

"Early Saturday morning. The same time the files were sent overseas."

"Ha! I was with a friend early Saturday morning."

"Can this 'friend' corroborate your story?"

"Of course she can."

There was silence in the room as each man thought about the revelation. If Tony couldn't present an alibi, Vance would go after him.

The Director looked over at Gibbs, reluctant to state the obvious, but protocol dictated his moves, "We have to turn this over to the FBI. I've already called Agent Fornell; he should be here any minute."

"What are you talking about?" Tony said. "That's not me on the tape. I don't even own an Ohio State hoodie!"

Gibbs answered the knock at the door and allowed Fornell and Agent Sachs to enter. Tony groaned, "Not again."

"What have you done this time, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Nothing! Just like last time, Slacks."

Agent Sachs offered, "Someone framing you again, DiNozzo? You sure do have a lot of enemies."

Gibbs placed a firm hand on Tony's shoulder, keeping him seated, and responded, "Just start the investigation. I suggest you start with Tony's alibi for Friday night."

"And who might that be?" Fornell asked.

"Maura Carlotti."

Fornell and Gibbs paused at the name, raising an eyebrow. Fornell asked, "_The_ Maura Carlotti?"

"Yeah."

"The woman who's a managing partner at Mancusso, Magliscue, Long and Carlotti?"

"Yeah," Tony replied.

"Agent Sachs, would you escort Special Agent DiNozzo to interrogation room 2 while we pick up Ms. Carlotti?"

Gibbs replied, "I'll do it. You take Ziva and pick her up."

Fornell nodded in acknowledgement and ticked his head at Sachs. Begrudgingly, the younger FBI agent left the room, followed by Vance and Fornell.

Tony turned to his boss, "I didn't do what they say I did, Boss."

"I know. Just play the game until we get a break, and don't do anything stupid."

**********************8

When Gibbs entered the observation room he was surprised to see so many people. Unless you could provide something germane to the investigation, he didn't want you around. But since he didn't know which ones of his team Tony would turn to, he decided to let them stay. They parted as he made his way closer to the glass so he could witness Ms. Carlotti get interviewed by Agents Sachs and Fornell. "This should be good," he mumbled.

Sachs opened up the questioning, "Can you tell me how you know Anthony DiNozzo?"

Maura Carlotti was an exotic beauty. She had raven colored shoulder length hair, green eyes, and legs that never stopped. She paused before answering each question as if she were formulating the perfect words. "He and I are friends. We met two years ago at a party."

"Do you date?"

"We do."

"Do you know what he does for a living?"

"He is a federal agent with NCIS."

Fornell and Sachs seemed a bit surprised at her candor.

"Can you state the nature of your friendship?"

"We are simply friends."

"Isn't it true that you once offered him a car? A Maserati to be exact?"

Maura tilted her head and nodded, "Yes. At one time, I thought that Tony and I could be more than friends, but he didn't want it. If you knew him, you'd know he keeps his relationships at arm's length."

"So he didn't accept the car?"

"No. You can't buy Tony with money; he was brought up with it and isn't easily impressed by it."

"Did you see him Friday night?"

"Yes. He came into the bar we usually frequent and we visited."

"You did more than just visit, didn't you?"

Maura tilted her head again, wondering where this line of questioning was going.

Sachs smiled when he added, "So how would you characterize your friendship now?"

She smiled back, "We are friends with benefits."

Abby enjoyed her comment and took an instant liking to her. On the other hand, Ziva narrowed her eyes and took an instant disliking to her.

"Excuse me?" Sachs said, knowing what that meant but, for the record, wanted clarification.

She sized up the men, knowing she was getting ready to toy with their libidos. "Tony and I used to date frequently. He was the one for me, but I wasn't the one for him. But we did have one thing in common. No matter what, there was one thing that nobody did better. We are damn good in bed together. In fact, I've been with my fair share of men," she added, flirting with her interviewer and producing the intended results from him, "but I have to admit that I've never been with a man who's perfected the art of love making quite like Tony has. He's that good, and that's why," she leaned forward, almost whispering, "I'll drop everything to lay with him, because few men can satisfy me the way Anthony can. He is a master in the bedroom. Can you say the same?"

Sachs and Fornell swallowed at the images she was conjuring. She had a way about her that was erotic and sensual and it left them imagining things they shouldn't have been imagining. When she leaned back and crossed her legs, she added, "You know he's Italian and Italian men just do it right. After a night with Tony DiNozzo, there's no going back to the mundane love making of you boorish Americans."

Sachs cleared his throat, hoping Fornell would jump in and take over. When that didn't happen, he cleared his throat again and asked, "So when did you go home?"

"He drove me home around three o'clock."

"You didn't stay the night?"

"No."

"Do you know where he went after he dropped you off?"

"No."

"Do you care?"

"Like I said, I got what I wanted; he got what he wanted."

Gibbs smiled at the outcome of the interrogation. They learned nothing except that Tony was telling the truth. When Sachs and Fornell entered the dark room of observation, Sachs said, "Put them together. I want to see if we've missed anything."

Abby smiled and accused, "You just want to see two hot people in the same room together! Shame on you!"

He went to object but Fornell interrupted, "Why are you in here? Don't you have a lab to run?"

"I'm here to support Tony. You may have a job to do, but I know he didn't steal any secrets."

When Tony entered the interrogation room with Maura, she stood up and hugged him, "Are you all right? They're interrogating me like we did something wrong."

"They think I did."

"What's wrong with being the best damn lover on the East Coast?"

"I don't think that's their problem. Remember when you said I was acting differently? Did you tell them that?"

She looked directly at the mirror, "Who's behind that?"

"My boss. If anyone can figure this out, it'll be him, so you can talk freely. What was it you said?"

Behind the mirror, all ears perked up. Tony was either digging himself into a hole or genuinely trying to help the investigation. Either way, the information forthcoming was going to be pertinent.

"I thought you seemed distracted, like you weren't really yourself."

"Why did you think that?"

"I think it was your expression. You had this look in your eyes like you were being controlled."

"That all?"

"Yeah."

He kissed her and she hugged him, asking, "Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know. I haven't been okay for a while."

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Break

The squad room was filled with everyone but Tony. Fornell and Gibbs were discussing their options quietly until Sachs made a comment which landed in the squad room like a hundred pound dumbbell. Gibbs approached him and quietly toned, "What did you say?"

Sachs was trying to make light of the situation, "I just said that DiNozzo's talents may serve him well in prison."

Fornell intervened before Gibbs could kill him, "Agent Sachs, go back to the office and pull the files we need."

"But we don't need any files."

"Then go sit at your desk until I call for you."

"What'd I do!"

"Go!"

Changing the subject, he reproached, "We have to take DiNozzo into custody."

"On what grounds?" Gibbs shot back.

Fornell interrupted again and said, "Agent Sachs, there is nothing we can hold Special Agent DiNozzo on right now. All we have is circumstantial evidence, and not enough to get a warrant. Let's do our job and keep the emotion out of it."

They waited for him to board the elevator before Gibbs started issuing orders, "McGee, I want Tony's records for the past month. All cell phones records, credit card activity, bills, anything he's done I want to know about it."

"On it."

"Abby, have the blood tests given us any information?"

"No, but I'm not stopping. Can I get some more blood?"

"You can tie him down and hook him up to an intravenous drip if you have to."

Ducky took her by the arm and guided her towards the stairs, saying, "I have just the plan to get Tony to give us more. Let's get Mr. Palmer."

Fornell asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Ziva, you're with me, we're going to his place and search it. See if we can find anything that would account for his behavior. Care to join us?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

Chapter Break

Assef and Amir observed the federal agents as they entered the apartment. Unlike before, they couldn't hear what was being said since they removed all listening devices, but they still had everything else in place. There was no way these federal agents would figure anything out until it was too late, at least for one of them, and if they got lucky, all of them.

Amir stated, "Why are Americans so stupid?"

Assef shook his head, "They are not stupid, my friend. Just arrogant. Do not mistake the two or it will be me calling you stupid."

"This brain washing technique is far superior to the one we used to use. Why do we not do this more often?"

Assef thought about the question a moment, then replied, "It is a superior technique in some ways, but inferior in others. Remember the night he fought us? It took both of us to subdue him. They are now suspicious of the marks left on his body. If we had broken a bone or blackened an eye, we would have had to abort our mission. There's always a piece of the person still inside whenever they are under our control, no matter how long we've had them. Even in the case of DiNozzo, we've had him almost three months now and we're just now reaping the rewards of our efforts. We have the files on the aircraft carrier that we need. But you cannot ever forget that a small part of that person lives on. Usually that piece can be squashed by the rest of the person, but sometimes it's strong enough to prevail. In those cases, be careful."

Amir listened and learned. He appreciated the talents of his mentor and felt that his place in history would be cemented after they pulled this off. He was getting anxious to return to his homeland and accept the accolades for a job well done. And then, finally, Al-Awlaki would know his name and remember him as the one who helped bring down a United States Federal Agency. A smile slowly crossed his lips at the thought of his future.

Assef noticed his expression, and sighed at the youthful musings of an idiot. If Amir only knew what was in store for his future, he may not be so eager to help with the next part of the mission. "C'mon," Assef said, "let's meet our guests."

The two men slipped from the van and into the apartment building. They made their way up to the top floor where their victim's apartment sat. Having made the trip many times, they were comfortable with the tenants and even said hello to a few.

Gibbs found nothing at Tony's apartment. Ziva and Fornell searched different rooms, but there really wasn't anything to be found, not even so much as a broken lamp or torn upholstery. Tony kept a very clean apartment and Fornell commented, "He plays the piano?"

Ziva remembered a conversation they'd had years earlier and shrugged, "I think so."

They were obviously disappointed that they didn't find anything and made their way back to the door. Gibbs noticed two maintenance men walking down the hallway. "Excuse me," he said, getting their attention before they'd walked too far.

Assef turned and asked, "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you knew the man who lives here."

"Yes. Mr. DiNozzo I believe. Why?"

"Have you noticed anything strange around here lately?"

Assef shrugged his shoulders and looked at his colleague, "No, I haven't. Have you noticed anything strange?"

Amir lifted his shoulders and shook his head.

Assef answered for them, "I am sorry."

Gibbs watched them walk away and exhaled. He was hopeful he'd find something. He walked back to Tony's apartment thinking that maybe McGee had been able to turn something up.

********************************8

Back at the Navy Yard, Gibbs studied his senior field agent. Dark rings lingered under his eyes, his cheeks were shallow, and he'd lost weight. It was past five, and given the situation, it was quitting time in his mind. "Tony, go on home and get some rest. And don't leave your apartment. No entertaining either."

Fornell watched him board the elevator and said, "If he's a flight risk…"

"He's not a flight risk, Fornell. Ok, McGee, whad'ya got for me?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I pulled his cell phone records, credit cards, banking statement, utilities, nothing seems to be noteworthy."

"What's that?" Ziva asked, pointing to a rather large number on his credit card.

McGee highlighted the number and said, "That's his electric bill. He pays it with his credit card."

"Why would he do that?" Fornell asked.

It took McGee a minute to realize that Fornell really didn't know. Sometimes he forgot just how large the generation gap could be. "Usually when people pay utilities with a credit card they're doing it for several reasons. Simplification of bill paying for one. For two, it's fewer hot spots on the web where their identity can be stolen."

Ignoring the explanation, Gibbs stated, "Show me a year's worth."

McGee punched some buttons and displayed the last twelve months. "Nothing abnormal about it."

Gibbs looked over the other figures and pointed to another number. "What's this one?"

"Phone Bill."

"Show me the last several months."

McGee pushed the figures to the plasma and shrugged, "Nothing unusual about the calls."

"What about this one?"

"That's his water bill. He pays it quarterly." McGee displayed a year's worth of water bills.

After a minute of study, Gibbs said, "Compare it to previous years."

McGee did some sorting and displayed several years' worth of bills. "He's never missed a payment. His credit is good."

"Compare this quarter to the same quarter of the previous four years."

McGee displayed a row of numbers. Fornell, Vance and Gibbs noticed the discrepancy immediately, but Ziva and McGee didn't. "What's the problem?" she asked.

Fornell answered, "Why the sudden spike in water usage this quarter?"

"Maybe he's been going to the gym and showering more," McGee supplied.

"Or maybe he's been entertaining his girlfriends," Ziva offered.

"Or maybe none of the above," Director Vance said, skeptical of the explanation. Gibbs noticed his director's demeanor and watched him leave a little too abruptly. Fornell wondered what he knew that he wasn't sharing.

"McGee, I want to know why there's a discrepancy."

"On it."

Chapter Break

Tony was slow to make it back to his apartment. He hurt. His body hurt and his head hurt and just about everything that had a nerve connected to it hurt. He immediately noticed that his place had been searched and it had the usual effect of pissing him off. Just hours earlier, God knows who was going through his belongings. Sachs probably relished the idea of searching his bathroom, while Fornell delighted in going through his closet. God only knew who searched his dresser. Not that he had anything to hide, but there were a few items he cherished that he kept in his top drawer and he'd just as soon not share with the world. He opened the drawer and carefully pulled out a box. He slowly lifted the lid and saw that the pictures were still there, intact, exactly how he'd left them. Looking at them made him both happy and sad.

He replaced the box and closed the drawer. Turning around, he realized that Gibbs had most likely been here searching, and so had Ziva, maybe even McGee. What a way to invite people into your home.

He forewent the beer in favor a tall glass of ice water. It didn't make him feel better; in fact, it made him feel worse. He took a couple of pain killers but even they had little affect. A cool shower was next on the list of 'maybe-this-will-work' remedies, but after thirty minutes, and water soaked digits, he dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist.

The floor began to move and he held on to the walls as he made his way towards his bed and fell on it. Exhausted, he wondered what was happening. His extremities were like lead and his mind was like sludge, and he slowly felt himself losing touch with any and all reality.

TBC

**Hang in there; this is coming to a close. Thanks for the reviews! Glad people are enjoying it. ~Jasmine**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Break

Sachs and Fornell arrived at NCIS at eight o'clock and noticed everyone was working except for the one person they needed to see. "Where is he?" Sachs asked.

Calmly, Gibbs stated, "He gets here when he gets here."

"Not exactly the military way of doing things."

"Tony's not exactly military," Ziva returned, disliking Sachs more and more with every meeting.

The FBI agents waited; Sachs took up residency behind Tony's desk, looking around it and wondering if this guy did any work. The expression on his face was one of disdain and Ziva wondered how he came to hate Tony so. They barely knew each other.

Fornell lingered next to Gibbs' desk, and although Ziva couldn't make out their conversation, she knew it was about her colleague.

"We don't have enough to hold him, but if we present all the evidence that we do have, I know a judge that would issue an arrest warrant."

"He didn't betray this country, Fornell."

"How do you know? You said yourself he hasn't been himself lately, coming in tired and sleeping all day. How do you explain that?"

"I can't, Tobias, but I know he didn't do what it appears he did. Sometimes in an investigation, not all is at it appears."

"Profound. You think I don't know that?"

"Then back off DiNozzo and let us find out who did this."

Fornell understood the protectiveness in his NCIS counterpart; although he had to admit that there were few FBI underlings that he could call family, there were some that he'd go to the mat fighting. He looked over at Sachs, still rummaging through DiNozzo's desk like he was going to find something. He looked up the stairs and noticed Leon Vance walking down them, no doubt wanting answers.

He entered the bullpen and said, "I've got some bad news."

Gibbs looked up. If he was tired of hearing bad news he didn't let on.

"The files that were breached and sent to Afghanistan dealt with one of our navy aircraft carriers headed for the Middle East. There were vessel specifications, personnel files, and inventory files in the data. Everything that anyone needed to know in order to spot a weakness in our ships." Vance looked around and noticed one key member was missing. "Where is he?"

"He'll be here, Leon." Frustrated, he reminded everyone of one simple fact, "You're not even sure that it was DiNozzo on the video. Hell, anyone could have put on an Ohio State sweatshirt, stolen DiNozzo's ID and entered the building disguised as him."

Sachs asked, "Does DiNozzo have the skills necessary to hack into your NCIS computer and pull off that computer thingy that Agent McGee was describing?"

While Ziva marveled at his lack of vocabulary skills, Gibbs deferred the question to McGee with a single stare.

"Uh, well, Tony does have some computer skills, but they usually deal with creating profiles and changing parameters on video games."

Vance saw a cover up when he heard one and stated, "That's not the question, Agent McGee. Could Agent DiNozzo have duplicated the server in such a way as to send that information out?"

There was no ducking that direct line of questioning, and no fooling Director Vance. He had witnessed some pretty mad computer miracles at the hands of his director which even he couldn't explain. He finally stammered out, "Well, I suspect that, umm, he probably could do those things. BUT I know Tony, and he would never do those things." He felt like a first year probie again with the looks he was getting from everyone, even Ziva.

"Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby said, scurrying around the corner. McGee was never so thankful for the interruption.

"What?"

"Gibbs! I have something interesting to show you," she said, only hesitating when she saw the group of angry eyed men staring at her.

"What is it?" he said.

"Well, I've been running every kind of test imaginable on Tony's blood and I found something hinky." She picked up the remote and pushed a line chart to the plasma TV. "Remember the other day when Tony came in and he was hyper, like he'd drunk a dozen caf-pows? Well, I—meaning Palmer—managed to take some more blood from him. I accidently ran a test twice, one that I had already run earlier, testing for hallucinogenic medications and other recreational drugs. I didn't mean to run it twice; it just happened with all the tests I was trying to run. Anyway, the first test came out normal, but the second time I tested his blood, the test came out positive. Look what's in his blood." She highlighted the word Temazepam.

"What is it?"

"Temazepam, brand names Restoril and Normison, among others, is an intermediate-acting 3-hydroxy hypnotic of the benzodiazepine class of psychoactive drugs."

"What?"

Vance answered, "It's a psychotropic drug."

Fornell asked, "Didn't he tell you that he'd taken some over the counter energy boosters and drank enough coffee to galvanize an elephant?"

"Yes, and there they are," she clicked the remote and additional lines shot up the chart. "That's why I was able to discover this."

Confused, the team gathered around the screen. "What are you saying, Abby?" Gibbs asked.

She turned to face her audience, "I'm saying the drug Temazepam is in Tony's system and has always been there. It's detectable when used alone, but undetectable when combined with the more common drug, Chlorizine. However, when Tony took the over the counter black-beauties and drank a boatload of caffeine, it essentially broke down the chemical composition of the Chlorizine, leaving traces of Temazepam behind. Don't you see? Tony's being drugged!"

The questions swirling around Gibbs' head were too numerous to articulate, but he never got a chance to postulate anything because his phone rang. When he saw the name, his stomach churned. Flipping it open, he said, "DiNozzo, where are you?"

The others waited. Although they couldn't hear what Tony said, by the expression on Gibbs' face, it wasn't good. They heard him tell Tony, "Don't move. Stay where you are, I'm on my way."

Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge, and ordered, "Get Ducky on the phone. Tell him to meet us at Tony's apartment."

"What happened?" Vance called after him.

"I'll fill you in on the way."

Chapter Break

Tony dropped his phone on the table. He could barely make out what was happening in his head. His mind was a mass of mud and his body would barely work for him. The only thing that was clear to him was that he was covered in blood and there was a dead man on his floor. He wanted to throw up.

He tried to remember what had happened, but he had no recollection of anything. The murder weapon was lodged deep into the victim's body and blood continued to gush onto his carpet. He, himself, was covered in blood but it was anyone's guess as to whose blood: his own or that of the dead man. He noticed his gun next to his phone on the table. He looked away from it but something was compelling him to pick it up. Whatever was controlling him was powerful. He picked up his Sig, expertly calibrated to fit perfectly in his hand. And it felt good there. He felt good holding it. He had one more job to do, one more person to kill.

He dropped his arm, hoping the gun would fall out, but it didn't; instead, he kept a solid hold around the grip. Gibbs would help him figure out what was going on. He just had to wait. He pointed the gun at his own head, then away, feeling the sudden need to vomit. He made it to the bathroom, sweat pouring off his face, but there was nothing in his stomach to purge. From a distance, he heard the pounding on his door. "DiNozzo!" It was his boss calling out his name. The final chapter in this insane book was coming to an end.

The voice soothed him, then unnerved him, and then soothed him again. Things were coming back into focus. He stood still in the hallway, holding his gun down at his side, waiting for a moment in time that he didn't know could ever be.

The door burst open and Gibbs rushed in to the right, while Ziva rushed in to the left. Gibbs saw the man on his floor immediately, then looked up and saw Tony standing in the hallway, aiming his weapon directly at him.

"DiNozzo, put the gun down."

Only to Tony, the man talking was not Gibbs. The man ordering him to put his gun down was the traitor.

"Lower your weapon, DiNozzo," Gibbs said staring down the barrel of the pistol.

Ziva held her gun steady, her training forcing her to exact a kill shot, but her heart telling her not to. McGee also held his gun steady, observing the look in his colleague's eyes. The same look as before, only much more dangerous and steady.

Gibbs inched closer to the dead man, "I'm just going to check for a pulse."

Tony almost laughed out loud, for a pulse was never going to be felt. The man was dead, for he was a traitor too, and if his death had been at his own hands, so be it; after all, he was very adept at killing.

Gibbs kept one eye on Tony as he knelt down. No pulse, but still warm. Very recent death. Carefully rising, he repeated, "Tony, he's dead."

Tony took a step forward, into the light and Gibbs immediately knew this wasn't his Anthony DiNozzo. The man occupying Tony's body was a merciless killer. He'd seen that expression before, and if he wasn't able to get through to his agent, this Tony would soon be dead, effectively killing his Tony. "I'm going to lower my weapon. How about you do the same?"

By now Tony was staring down the wrong end of five guns, all individually selected by their owners to exact the perfect shot. For some reason, he didn't care. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I have to kill you," he stated, matter of factly.

Ziva and McGee tightened their grip as did Fornell and Sachs. Gibbs shot them a warning, "Don't shoot him!" he hissed. He specifically located Sachs and saw his finger already poised, "Sachs, I'll kill you if you pull that trigger."

The FBI agent suddenly became aware of the drama and how this was much bigger than him. He also became acutely aware that Gibbs was a man of his word. He slowly removed his index finger off the trigger.

Gibbs returned his attention to his senior field agent and said, "You said you have to kill me, why?"

Tony acted like it was a dumb question, "Because I have to."

"Like you killed him?"

Tony licked his lips trying to remember. "I don't remember killing him."

"That's because you didn't. Put your gun down and let's figure out what's happening."

"I can't do that," he said, sounding confused, but steady.

"Listen to me, Tony. You've been drugged." Gibbs said this while lowering his own gun. "It's been going on for quite some time now."

Tony shook his head, "No, I feel fine." His words were almost robotic.

Gibbs knew time was running out and he had to make Tony understand. "McGee! Fornell! Sachs!" he stated, getting their attention. "Lower your weapons. Director Vance, lower yours too."

"Can't do that," Sachs toned. Aiming higher to ensure a bullet through the head.

"Stand down, Agent Sachs," Fornell ordered.

Gibbs waited another minute before he said, "See, Tony? We're not here to hurt you. We just want to get to the bottom of this. But we can't unless you drop your weapon."

Only Ziva held her gun steady, watching intently for a flinch, a muscle twitch, anything that would indicate that he was going to shoot, and then she would fire first.

"I have to kill you. You're the traitor."

Gibbs cocked his head, now they were getting somewhere. "Did you breach the NCIS files?"

"No, you did. You sent them the specs for the aircraft carrier. I saw you do it."

"No, that wasn't me." Gibbs looked down at the dead man, recognizing the baseball cap. "Tony, do you know this man?"

"No."

"He works in your building."

"I don't know him." The clarity of the situation was slowing dissipating. What seemed so clear a minute ago wasn't anymore. "Boss?" Tony asked, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Yeah, Tony, it's me. Put your weapon down and we'll talk."

Tony looked at his gun, almost shocked that it was pointed at his boss. He began to lower it when his mind cleared up again, and he saw the traitor before him. Returning it to eye level, he said, "Nice try, but you're the one betraying this country."

"Steady, Ziva," Gibbs whispered. "Next time."

Ziva understood and relaxed her shoulders, a technique she had mastered early on in her firearms training.

"Tony, listen to me. You're being drugged. The dead man only pretended to work in this building as a maintenance man. And he didn't work alone; there was another man with him. Do you remember him?"

Tony looked down at the dead man, flashes of his face danced on his eyeballs but he couldn't place him. He remembered that there were always two men wearing baseball caps and dark blue shirts working around the building. They started months ago. They were always pleasant to him, always around when he got home. "Stop trying to confuse me. You're the person who must die!" Before he could fully raise his arm, flashes of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, his mentor, his superior, his friend, came into view and the reality that he was pointing his gun at his boss became surreal. And it horrified him.

Appearing to be coming to his senses, he looked sickened. "I'm sorry," he stammered, embarrassed at his action, but unable to rectify the situation. As if someone else were controlling him, his arm remained straight and his hand loose on the pistol grip. Then, for some reason, they watched as he moved the gun off of Gibbs and turned the barrel towards his own head, his eyes pleading with his boss to help him.

"Tony! Don't do that! You fought it this long, keep fighting."

"I can't, Boss. There're here, every night. I can't sleep. I can't think…I can't…"

Clarity invaded his mind again and the gun swivelled back towards Gibbs.

Vance echoed what everyone was thinking, "You'd better think of something fast, Gibbs."

Just then Gibbs decided to take a different approach, "Special Agent DiNozzo! Stand down, now!"

Tony jerked his head up at the sound of his name.

"Do you understand my orders, Special Agent DiNozzo? I said, Stand down!"

It was apparent that the man was struggling with voices in his head and having some sort of internal battle over what to do next. As the sweat dripped off his brow, he looked from Gibbs, and back to the body on the floor and over to Ziva. "I'm sorry, I can't—" Swiftly, he turned the gun back towards his own temple.

The blast filled the room, echoing inside the walls of the one place they never thought one of their own would fall.

TBC

**I'm hoping to wrap this up next chapter. Thanks for all who've been sticking with it! ~Jasmine**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Break

Ziva pulled the trigger, hitting Tony in the shoulder and spinning him around. A second shot hit him in the arm, his gun falling from his hand.

In three long strides, Gibbs was kneeling next to him, "Stay down, Tony!" He kicked the gun down the hallway.

Tony pushed away. His legs kept moving in an effort to get away from the confusion and pain that was encompassing his body. Grabbing his arm, he stuttered, "You're…you're not a traitor, are you, Boss?"

"No, it's not me."

"What'd they do to me?"

"I don't know. Get me some towels!" he hissed over his shoulder. "Just try to relax." Gibbs could tell he was trying to obey his orders, but it was hard to stay still when he just wanted to get away from the pain. "Ziva, get over here! Watch him."

She knelt down beside her partner and put pressure on his shoulder, stopping the bleeding. "I'm sorry Tony," she whispered, knowing that it was her bullet lodged in his shoulder.

Gibbs hurried to the window and looked down on the street. There it was in the exact same spot it was before. "The van, Fornell! The other man's in that van!"

Fornell, Sachs, Vance and Gibbs ran from the apartment in hot pursuit. McGee went over to Tony and knelt down, laying his hand on his friend's chest, trying to keep him calm, "Tony, stay still, an ambulance is on its way."

"I have to kill him!"

"Gibbs is not the traitor," McGee said. "Those men made you believe the wrong thing."

Gunshots could be heard from the ally, and Ziva pulled her partner closer to her, cradling his head in her arms, willing his confusion to go away. His arm fell limp by her side as she stroked his head and soothed his mind, but his eyes were telling her he was anything but calm.

By the time the ambulance came, the second terrorist, Assef, was already in custody. He had tried to commit suicide, but several carefully placed bullets prevented that. As he laid writhing and bleeding on the sidewalk, Gibbs took his time calling for a second ambulance.

The paramedics worked on Tony, immobilizing his arm, starting an IV, and making him comfortable. Unfortunately, when they learned of his psychosis, the EMT brought out the restraining straps. To everyone's surprise, Tony didn't fight it. His free arm was restrained at his side, and both legs were restrained at the ankles. Lastly, a strap was pulled over his hips. Ziva made sure it wasn't too tight and then she accompanied him to the hospital, leaving McGee and Ducky behind.

"Is he going to be okay?"

With the little Ducky knew it was difficult to say, but ever the optimist, he smiled, "He is a DiNozzo. He is always okay."

McGee began the search of the apartment, looking for what Director Vance had shared with everyone in the car on the way to Tony's. Sure enough, he found what he was looking for. Tony's apartment was one of the few self-sustaining units. Rather than several apartments sharing the same water supply, his apartment had its own. Tucked neatly behind the hot water tank was a small canister with a direct feed into the tank. All the water Tony ever used, be it for cooking, drinking, or showering was being infused with the drug Temazepam. It was being absorbed externally through his skin and internally whenever he drank it. There was no way Tony could have escaped it. They could control how much he was given simply by turning the small knob.

McGee helped Ducky and Palmer carry the body of Amir Hosseini out to the NCIS van. "Tell Jethro that after I process this body, I'll be going to the hospital."

"Sure thing, Ducky. I'm sure he'll be going there too if he isn't already." McGee returned to the apartment half expecting to find the others, but there was no one. He took a minute to reflect on the past few hours. A man was killed in this room, and his good friend was lying in a hospital with two bullets in him. Once Tony reads the report on this case, he's going to feel awful. Just pointing his weapon at Gibbs was going to have lasting effects. Then he smiled, because there could be advantages to having a guilt-ridden Tony around. Remorse can be a strange and wonderful thing. Maybe, just maybe, there was a month's worth of Italian lunches in store for him. After days of feeling on edge, McGee finally relaxed. He opened his bag and began the arduous task of taking crime scene photos.

Chapter Break

Ziva stared across the bullpen at the empty desk. She missed him, and she felt guilty for shooting him. She tried to concentrate on her work, but every time she came to a break, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Her eyes shifted to the left as she felt she was being watched. "Why are you looking at me, McGee?"

"Why are you looking at an empty desk?"

"Because I miss him, that's why. Because I want to tell him I am sorry I shot him, and I want him to come back to work and take some of the load off us."

Gibbs rounded the corner and said, "I'm sure he'd like to see everyone, too."

"Then why can't we go visit him?"

Ziva was surprised to see Agent Fornell and Agent Sachs following Gibbs, and even more surprised when Fornell answered, "Because he needs time to assimilate back to his old self, and we would interfere with that process."

"Since when have you become such an expert in the field of psychiatry?" Gibbs asked.

"I got a crash course from Abby a few days ago."

"Gibbs! Gibbs!"

"Speak of the devil," Sachs said at her entrance.

She cocked her head at his comment and smiled wickedly, "Speak of the devil? Okay."

He was completely surprised by her undivided attention and stammered, "No, I didn't mean it that way... It's just an expression. Agent Fornell said he learned about psychiatry from you. Well, not from you—"

She held up her hand and said, "That's okay, Slacks, I'll forgive you this time, but next time, if you bring the devil into this, you and I are going to have to have a very long chat."

Gibbs saved the man further embarrassment, "Abbs, what'd ya bring me?"

"Just confirmation that both men—the dead one, Amir, and the other one, Assef—were definitely in Tony's apartment. I found DNA from both men all over his place. How's Tony?"

"I don't know. I'm not allowed to see him."

"Can I go visit him?"

"Nope. Not until we get the okay from the head shrink."

Vance entered the bullpen and replied, "That's no way to address the foremost psychiatrist in the field of mind control techniques."

Gibbs couldn't have cared less about his reference, but he did want to see his senior field agent. "I was hoping to see him, too."

"I just got a call from the 'head shrink', Dr. Walters. Agent DiNozzo is making good progress and he sees a full return to active duty very soon."

"How soon? And why can't we visit him?" Abby complained.

"It's not my call, Ms. Scuito."

McGee asked, "Did we ever find out why the terrorist cell picked Tony?"

"He came to their attention while being Agent Afloat on the USS Reagan," Vance replied. "Apparently their paths crossed there. A little more digging uncovered the connection to al-Queda. It wasn't that long ago that both men were cave hopping in Afghanistan. One of the men, Assef Abdullhi, was climbing the ladder of success and this was his operation. He targeted Agent DiNozzo and then went after him.

"But why Tony?"

"They thought he had the right composition for the job."

"The right composition? What does that mean?"

"A good candidate for the new type of brainwashing that they prefer to use. And by 'good candidate,' they wanted someone who is highly intelligent, who resists authority, who has a dark side, and who is wealthy."

"Wealthy? What does having money have to do with anything?"

"I don't know, Officer David. I only recently became aware of their techniques at a symposium I attended several months back."

Fornell said, "We've been briefed on these technique as well, and they aren't pretty. It's a slow process whereby the subject is subjected to extreme violence, fatigue, fear, lies, and torture. No telling what they did to Agent DiNozzo and how long they've been doing it."

Gibbs tried not to think about it. He was keenly aware of those techniques and had seen firsthand what it can do to a man.

Abby asked, "He'll be all right, won't he?"

Like everyone else, Director Vance held a soft spot for the forensics' scientist, and when she was sad, he felt her sadness. "I believe he'll recover one hundred percent. A lot of people are working with him and pulling for him. We'll just have to be patient and give him the time he needs."

Ziva said, "It doesn't help that the FBI is always wanting to arrest him."

Sachs suddenly felt guilty and replied, "We don't always want to arrest him. It's just that he keeps coming to our attention."

Abby narrowed her eyes and smiled, evil-like. "He does have that bad boy quality that's so exciting."

Sachs hedged, feeling uncomfortable under with her suggestive ways. But she saved him further embarrassment by saying directly to the top man at NCIS, "Which is why I think we should be able to visit him. He needs our help, Director!"

"You'll have to stand in line, Ms Scuito," Vance said, leaving the bullpen. "There are a lot of people studying him right now."

When she turned towards Gibbs to object, he held up one finger to silence her, for he had a plan.

Chapter Break

Ziva and Abby giggled. They were finding it hard to believe that their boss was getting ready to impersonate a psychiatrist. But they were also giddy with excitement at being able to see Tony again. His room was on the fifth floor of the facility and it was a typical hospital room and its occupant had kept it neat. There were very few personal objects lying around.

"I wonder how he got his own private room," Ziva asked.

"Would you share a room with someone who could kill you ten different ways and not leave a mark?"

"Good point. I did not realize how much I miss him."

She smiled down on the shorter woman. It was always nice when she let her guard down and showed some emotion. "Me, too. I miss him a lot. You think he'll be happy to see us?"

Looking around the sterile building, she nodded, "I think he'd be happy to see McGee at this point. Now, let's get ready. Gibbs will be here any minute."

Chapter Break

_Somewhere in the hills of Afghanistan…_

Al-Awlaki leaned forward, listening to the story of the NCIS agent and the death and imprisonment of his handlers, Amir and Assef. He nodded appreciatively at the effectiveness of the brainwashing techniques. When the story had finished, he sat silently on the small carpet in the cave. After a thoughtful minute, he asked, "Were they able to plant the seed in the NCIS agent's head?"

"Yes."

He could no longer contain his smile. With this in place, the Americans would think 9-11 was a walk in the park with what he was planning. And Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was dead in the center of the action.

~~Fini

**I deliberately set this up to write a sequel. Having said that, I'm notoriously slow at writing sequels but since this one has lots of potential and it's simply deciding which direction I want to take it, it may not take me that long. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and comment. I really do appreciate it. I don't always respond to each one b/c RL is always very hectic, but it's no less appreciated. ~~Jasmine**


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